O POVERTY, if thou and I must wed, I'll surely try to sing thee into fame; I'll call thee many a high-descended name, To shed a lustre on thy dowerless head; Say thou'rt a royal maiden, Spartan bred, Early bound out to a harsh foster-dame, My keen-eyed Hardihood! A worthy shame I'll have of all those cates on which I fed Before I found a zest for thy plain food. I laugh to think how we shall entertain Our friends from Sybaris, with all their train, On nuts and berries from the underwood; We'll have our floor with rushes daily strewed, And patch the roof with boughs against the rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEPTEMBER by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT THANKS TO SIR WALTER by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 10 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING OATS WILD TURN MILD by THRALL BUELL THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE NOVEL by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |